


Duty

by magickalmolly



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 10:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9229847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magickalmolly/pseuds/magickalmolly
Summary: Shire Date is 1457, which makes Merry 75 and Pippin 67.  Originally written August 19, 2005.





	1. Duty - part I

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DaisyGamgee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaisyGamgee/gifts).



> Shire Date is 1457, which makes Merry 75 and Pippin 67. Originally written August 19, 2005.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ache in Pippin's heart at the sound of Merry's exhausted weeping was eased by the simple fact that this was the first time Merry had actually let Pippin hold him since he'd come. Pippin leaned back, snugging Merry closer still, to which Merry silently complied.
> 
> It seemed like forever to Pippin before Merry's tears subsided, and he pressed an absent kiss against Merry's overwarm forehead.
> 
> "Now, what was that all about?"
> 
> Merry only shook his head, and this time Pippin didn't hold his frustration back. "Tup it all, Merry. Talk to me."

"Merry?" 

Pippin's voice was muffled through the heavy door, and accompanied by a soft knock. When there was no answer, Pippin reached for the latch, and pushed the door inward, just enough to allow him to peer inside. The sitting room was mostly dark, none of the lamps scattered about the room having been lit. There was a small fire in the hearth, but that seemed more consumed by the shadows than chasing them away. Pippin frowned to himself at the gloomy look of it all. 

Merry sat in an armchair in front of the hearth, and Pippin could see nothing of him but the top of his now-snowy head and his heels resting on the rug, his long legs stretched out. Pippin closed the door behind him as he entered, and approached Merry quietly enough so as not to disturb his cousin should he be asleep.

But Merry was awake. His eyes, usually bright and sharp, were hazy now, red-rimmed and tight around the edges as they stared into the dwindling fire. Pippin could see he'd been crying again. The sight pulled at Pippin's heart, and he kneeled down next to Merry, resting the both of his hands on the arm of the chair.

"You missed supper tonight." 

Merry's only answer was a soft, unintelligible sound. He wouldn't look away from the hearth, wouldn't look to Pippin, even when Pippin moved one hand from the chair to Merry's shoulder, rubbing there gently. Pippin waited for a long moment, but Merry didn't respond, and so he rose with a soft sigh, then crossed to the fire. 

The wind howled fiercely outside, and the scent of rain was heavy in the air, even in the small room. It would be falling within the hour, and by morning all the roads out of Buckland would be a muddy mess. Of course, Pippin had no plans to leave any time soon. Not when Merry needed him. 

Neither hobbit spoke as Pippin added a few more logs to the open hearth. He pushed them into place with the old iron poker; sitting squatted on his heels, he waited for the fire to catch. He didn't look to Merry as he waited, but watched him from the corner of his eye just the same. These last few days, it felt as if Pippin did nothing but watch his cousin. He worried that if he looked away for too long, Merry might somehow disappear. He was hardly here now as it was.

The fire burning full and brightly once again, Pippin nodded in satisfaction and rose, dusting off his hands.

Still Merry didn't move, slouched as he was in his chair, and Pippin frowned again. It was disconcerting to Pippin, to see his cousin and best friend look so... defeated. Even in the House of Healing, wounded and weary to the point of almost not recognizing Pippin, Merry had kept a sense of strength about him, like a cloak made to hang just so from his sturdy shoulders. Now Merry looked weak. Merry's age had never made him look so; it was the grief that shrouded him. In Pippin's mind it didn't suit him at all. 

"I'm going to fetch our pipes. We can have a nice smoke before bed." 

Merry didn't respond at all this time, and Pippin's brow furrowed deeply, but he turned and left the room without another word. Pippin was nothing if not stubborn – far more stubborn than Merry had ever been – and after three days of dealing with Merry's (albeit understandable) melancholy, Pippin hadn't given up his own less than moody disposition. 

The pipes were located in their bedrooms, respectively, and Pippin was quick to retrieve first his own, and then Merry's, finding it on his writing desk where Merry had kept it since he was a 'tween. 

Pippin lingered a bit in Merry's bedchamber, the room dark and chilly, and he was surprised when he realized that nothing had been moved, nothing _touched_ since probably before he had arrived. This concerned Pippin deeply, to see Merry live in such a state. It had been almost a week now since Estella had passed on, and while no one expected Merry to return to his normal state so quickly, Pippin worried that Merry was slipping into a place where he couldn't be reached. Even by Pippin himself.

Back out in the hallway, Pippin stopped a passing servant with a wave of his hand. 

"It's Dahlia, yes?"

"Yes, Thain Peregrin." The young girl dropped a curtsey, showing the proper respect. 

"I know it's late, but I need you to go to Master Meriadoc's personal chamber and see that it's tended to. The fire's gone out completely, and the linens are to be changed." Pippin saw Dahlia blanch at the request, but he flashed her a warm smile, not afraid to use his Took charm when the situation called for it. 

"Can you do this for me?" Seeing the Thain's smile caused Dahlia to smile as well, quite giddily, and she giggled as she nodded, her brown curls bobbing. Sixty-seven years had done nothing to Pippin's look except refine them, and even now he still managed to turn heads. 

"Well, off with you then, and take these with you." From his weskit pocket, Pippin produced a couple of small coins, and pressed them into the palm of the young girl, who gasped in surprise. 

" _Thank_ you, sir," Dahlia curtsied again before hurrying off to do as she was told. 

Back in the sitting room, Merry had not moved from his spot, still slumped over and silent in the high-backed chair. Pippin sighed as he lingered in the doorway. But he forced himself to put a cheerful smile on his face, not wanting Merry to see his worried expression.

"Here we are. Two pipes, and a pouch of Old Toby. Just the thing for such a cold, dreary night." Pippin crossed to where Merry sat, and he perched himself on the unused footstool, humming a bit of nothing under his breath as he filled both bowls with generous pinches of pipe-weed. 

Once the pipes were ready, he offered Merry's to him, and was heartened when Merry took it. 

"Now, matches... " Patting at his weskit with his free hand, Pippin realized belatedly that he had no matchbox on him. "Bother. Well, there must be some here on the mantle." 

Pippin rose, and searched in between the usual assortment of knick-knacks that lined the shelf above the fireplace, looking for a tinderbox. But the sudden sound of crying pulled his attention from his search, and Pippin crossed to Merry's side quickly, alarm and worry both apparent on his face.

"Merry. Merry, whatever is the matter?" Merry sat all but curled in on himself, his one hand cradling his pipe to his chest, the other covering his eyes. Pippin dropped instantly to his knees, and he rubbed soothing fingers against the back of Merry's flushed neck, not sure of what else to do.

Merry didn't say anything for what seemed a long time, only continued to weep and refuse to look up. Pippin found himself fighting against mounting frustration. It certainly wasn't the first time he'd felt this way since he had arrived, and after two long days (and nights) of not being allowed to offer any comfort, Pippin had had enough.

"Hoy, come here," Taking Merry's hand from his face with the both of his own, Pippin tried to ease Merry from the chair, but Merry only shook his head, and pulled out of Pippin's grip. 

But Pippin wasn't willing to give up so easily. "Move over then, you stubborn goose." He gave Merry's shoulder a gentle shove, then his hip, before slipping himself up into the armchair, right next to Merry.

There was nowhere for Merry to go, much as he tried, and Pippin had already wrapped his arms around Merry's broad shoulders, pulling him close. Merry struggled weakly, but finally gave up, still-wet tears staining his cheeks as he leaned heavily into Pippin's embrace.

"There now. That's better, hmm?" The ache in Pippin's heart at the sound of Merry's exhausted weeping was eased by the simple fact that this was the first time Merry had actually let Pippin hold him since he'd come. Pippin leaned back, snugging Merry closer still, to which Merry silently complied. 

It seemed like forever to Pippin before Merry's tears subsided, and he pressed an absent kiss against Merry's overwarm forehead. 

"Now, what was that all about?"

Merry only shook his head, and this time Pippin didn't hold his frustration back. "Tup it all, Merry. Talk to me." 

Merry looked up, blinking his wet and swollen eyes in surprise. Pippin, seeing that he finally had Merry's attention, cupped a warm palm to the other hobbit's flushed cheek, and didn't let him look away. He softened his voice with effort.

"Talk to me. It doesn't have to be about –" Pippin almost said Estella's name, but he could see fresh tears threatening to crest in Merry's gaze, and thought better of it. "It doesn't have to be about anything you don't want to talk about. But, please..." And Pippin let Merry see, for just a moment, how hurt he was by Merry's silence. How it worried him. "Just talk to me."

Merry swallowed and nodded, then shook his head, drying his eyes with the cuff of his shirt. "I don't know what to say," he finally admitted softly.

The only response Pippin could think for that was to gentle Merry's head onto his shoulder. 

It was a long time before Pippin spoke again, his voice nothing more than a murmur against Merry's hair. "I've been through this myself, you know."

Pippin thought back to when Diamond died that summer, a good six years ago now. When the fever took her, it had been painful, but blessedly quick. Pippin had been devastated, but Merry had ridden out to Tuckborough as soon as the news had reached him. Pippin had wept so much that first night, distraught and inconsolable, but had finally fallen asleep at dawn, exhausted in Merry's arms. But he had never hidden himself from Merry, and Pippin simply didn't understand why Merry insisted on doing so. 

After everything they'd been through together, so many years, Pippin was sure Merry's silence was the worst thing he'd ever experienced.

"I'm all alone now," Merry whispered at last. "Estella is gone, and my son is starting his own family, and I... I don't have anyone left."

"What about me?" Pippin's voice was nothing more than a whisper, lightly ruffling Merry's snowy curls.

"You're Thain." Merry answered, as if that was explanation enough. Pippin didn't reply, and after a moment, Merry continued, filling the silence. "You're busy with your own duties, your own family, and so far away..."

Pippin smiled softly at that, and shook his head. "Being far away didn't stop us when we were young. Why should it stop us now? I love you, Merry, and I'll always be here for you."

Merry began to cry again, pressing his face to Pippin's chest, and Pippin couldn't bear to see it. He brushed back the curls from Merry's forehead with gentle fingers, and pressed a tender kiss there. Still Merry wept, silent and trembling, and it nearly broke Pippin's heart. Cupping Merry's face, he kissed each of Merry's eyes, and finally, gently, his mouth, lingering for a long moment before forcing himself to pull back. 

Realizing what he had done, Pippin's heart tripped a little faster in his chest. He silently berated himself for such a foolish and forward action. This was not the time. 

But Merry surprised Pippin by following Pippin's retreating mouth with his own. He kissed Pippin this time, sudden and firm, and did not move away. 

Pippin couldn't hide his response to Merry's forwardness. A soft gasp, and then he returned the kiss ardently, tilting his head and pressing himself closer. Pippin's mouth softened, and parted, and Merry's did as well, and Pippin forgot about everything then but the warm heat he was being allowed into. Sweet Eru, how many years had he wanted this?

Just as quickly as the kiss had begun, it ended, Merry jerking away. He pulled back so hard that Pippin tumbled from the chair, and landed rather firmly on his rump. Merry pressed a hand to his gaping mouth as he stared down at Pippin, his eyes wide. A second later his brow furrowed in anger, and Pippin felt his heart clench.

"Merry, I –" 

"No." Merry's voice was rough with emotion. "Don't say anything."

Pippin could see that Merry was trembling, and he didn't know whether it was from confusion or anger. Carefully, Pippin sat himself up, then rose to his knees, but he didn't touch Merry, only held his gaze.

"Let me explain. Please." 

Merry seemed ready to refuse, and Pippin braced himself for it. But something in Merry deflated a bit, and he sat back in the chair, silently waiting. Pippin wasn't quite sure what he was going to say until he opened his mouth. 

"We did our duty, Merry. For so many years now, we've obeyed our families, and fought a war, and came back heroes. And then fought another war here in our own home, and rebuilt that home, practically from the ground up. Then we took the stations we were born to. We married as we should, and had our children – heirs to take our place one day. We did everything we were suppose to. So much of it simply because it was expected of us. But now..." 

Pippin stopped himself when he realized he was rambling on. Softening his voice, he reached up tentatively and cupped a hand to Merry's flushed cheek. "Out of everything I have, or had, or ever fought for, you're the one thing I really wanted. And never got." 

Whispering, tears rose in Pippin's eyes, and he gathered up Merry's trembling hands with his own, holding them tight. "After all of that, I think I deserve to get what I want. I want my youth back. I want back everything I gave up. But more than anything, I want... " and Pippin laughed, a soft, hollow sound. "I want my Merry."

Merry blinked, uncomprehending. But confusion slowly gave away to understanding, and he leaned back, pulling his hands away from Pippin's strong grip.

"Pippin, I... You can't be serious." 

Pippin only sat quietly, and Merry's expression hardened into quick anger, the first real emotion Pippin had seen on his face since the grief that had settled there. He pushed up from his chair, and stepped away, his back to where Pippin still kneeled. 

"I'm the Master of Buckland. You're Thain! You can _not_ be suggesting that we..." turning, Merry trailed off for a long moment, gesturing with the both of his hands as he struggled for something to say.

But Pippin was quicker, and he picked up where Merry left off, climbing up from the floor and closing the distance between them in a single stride. 

"I love you, Merry. I always have." 

Pippin fell silent for just a moment, nervousness gripping at his belly at what he wanted to say next. He only hoped that he wasn't making a colossal mistake. But Merry had kissed him back. He _had_ ; Pippin hadn't imagined it. 

"And... you can't tell me you don't feel the same. I know you do."

Pippin's hand had closed over Merry's tense shoulder, but Merry shrugged it off irately. "Stop it."

"No, I won't." Pippin grabbed Merry's shoulder again, but used the grip to turn him around when Merry would look away, forcing Merry to meet his gaze. 

"This isn't how I wanted this to happen, but... well, it's out now, and I need you to see what's always been there. You've always been the one I've wanted, Merry. You've always been my heart."

Merry snorted at that, a cruel sound. He knocked away Pippin's touch once more. Pippin let his hand fall to his side, but he didn't move away. 

"Have you no respect for the fact that I've just lost my wife?" 

Merry's words stung Pippin sharply, but Pippin didn't let their effect show. "Estella's dead. And for that I'm sorry. I loved her too, you know. She was a dear friend. But she's _gone_ now, Merry. She's gone, but... but you're not." 

Pippin straightened himself to his full height, and met Merry's gaze levelly, his words low but clear. "I wonder if you realize that."

Something seemed to burn behind Merry's eyes at Pippin's words; something cold and furious that stole all the colour from them, leaving nothing but pale gray. Merry stood, silent and trembling, and his hands balled into tight fists at his sides. 

"Get out."

"Merry, please. If you'd only listen—" 

"Great Eru, Pippin!" Merry's frustrated cry startled Pippin into silence. "Just... leave. Before either one of us says something we will regret."

Throughout Pippin's entire life, Merry had never pushed Pippin away. Even when Pippin might have deserved it. There had only been love in Merry's gaze, until now, and Pippin's heart felt pierced by the very sight. He had to fight the urge to press his hand to his chest. 

But Pippin had never been able to refuse Merry anything. His love for Merry wouldn't allow it, and so he certainly couldn't start now. 

Giving Merry a small nod, Pippin left the sitting room, closing the door behind him.

~*~*~

"Pippin? Are you asleep?" Merry's voice was hushed in the hallway, and his knock on the closed door was tentative, gentle. There was no answer from the other side, and Merry knocked once more, slightly louder this time.

"He's gone, sir." The voice behind him gave Merry a start, and he turned quickly, one hand unconsciously clutching his breast.

"Dahlia. I didn't see you there." 

"Begging your pardon, sir; I didn't mean no harm." Arms full of linens, Dahlia dropped a curtsy, brown curls bouncing as she did so.

"No, no, it's quite all right. But what did you mean, he's gone?" Merry felt a cold sliver of fear snake his way into his belly, which he tried vainly to ignore. His hand shook as he unmindfully clasped it there. 

"Thain Peregrin, sir. Came and asked Reggie to saddle up his pony, not more than an hour or so ago. It must have been something right terrible to send him out in such a state, and in this storm, too. He said... sir?"

But Merry had walked away, and didn't hear the rest of what the girl said.


	2. Duty - part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Handing his gloves and damp cloak to the waiting servant, Merry gave his head a good shake, and the tiny droplets that had been clinging to his white curls rained down to the entry rug below. The storm had lessened to a dreary drizzle in the last few hours, but Merry was soaked through to his underclothes. Everything was wet and uncomfortably clinging to him. 
> 
> He didn't notice, his thoughts on more pressing matters. 
> 
> "Where is Pippin?"

Handing his gloves and damp cloak to the waiting servant, Merry gave his head a good shake, and the tiny droplets that had been clinging to his white curls rained down to the entry rug below. The storm had lessened to a dreary drizzle in the last few hours, but Merry was soaked through to his underclothes. Everything was wet and uncomfortably clinging to him. 

He didn't notice, his thoughts on more pressing matters. 

"Where is Pippin?"

"In his parlor, sir, I would think." 

The servant took Merry's traveling gear, and filled the silence with her chatter. 

"Supper's been served, but if you're hungry, I can gather up something from the kitchens, no trouble. A hot pot of tea and some biscuits at least, while you rest and change out of those wet things." 

"No, that won't be necessary. I may not be staying long." The servant blinked at this, but didn't question it.

"Shall I announce you then?" 

Merry smiled, soft and a bit sadly. "I think it better if you didn't."

Pippin was, indeed, in the parlor, stacks of papers laid out before him in haphazard piles. Merry entered the room quietly, not wanting to disturb Pippin at his work. Pippin had never been comfortable using the large desk that had been his father's – once confiding in Merry that is made him feel as if he were unapproachable. Seated behind an insurmountable stretch of finely polished wood, like some sort of Steward. It was discomforting to see him use it now.

And now that he was here, Merry felt his nerve slacken. It'd been well over two months since he and Pippin had seen one another. Not since Pippin had left that night. _Not since I threw him out_ Merry thought to himself miserably. 

There had been no letters, no messages. Not a single word. 

Merry had come to Tuckborough out of desperation, unable to cope with the silence any longer. 

Raising his head as he reached for something, Pippin paused when he caught sight of Merry lingering in the open doorway. He blinked several times, almost as if he didn't trust what his eyes were seeing, and his mouth opened, but he closed it a moment later. Slowly, Pippin looked at Merry, from toes to curls and back again, then dropped his gaze to the papers before him once more.

"You're getting the floor wet. Marigold'll have words with you once she finds you –" 

"May I come in?"

Pippin fell silent, his nervous chatter trailing off at Merry's soft request.

"The fire's just been re-stoked. You'll dry off faster if you stand before it."

Merry knew that was the best answer he was likely to get just now, and accepted it gratefully, crossing to the blazing hearth and warming himself there. He hadn't realized just how cold he was, and while Pippin set himself to his work once more, Merry chaffed his hands, slowly rubbing feeling back into them. 

Aside from the crackle of the flames and the soft shuffle of papers, the parlor was very quiet. Merry wanted to speak, but now that he was here, he didn't know where to begin. Riding for two days in the rain hadn't dampened his spirits, but facing Pippin's silence had. 

"Pippin. May I talk to you?" 

"I'm very busy." Pippin didn't even raise his head as he replied, and Merry felt his anger spark.

"I didn't come all this way to watch you work." Merry knew the words were the wrong ones to speak as soon as they were out of his mouth, and he winced when Pippin bristled visibly.

"Why did you come, then? Did you think of something you'd like to say to me that you won't regret?" Hearing his own words thrown back at him was enough to get Merry to move, and he crossed to Pippin, dropping to his knees before him. His hands imploringly gripped the arm of the chair.

"Pippin, you must know why I am here. Please don't make this any more difficult for me than it already is."

Pippin set his papers aside, but he didn't otherwise move. He looked down at Merry from his seat with a small frown. Merry understood now how Pippin must have felt when their positions had been reversed. His heart ached with regret.

"You weren't very quick to make things easy on me when... the last time we spoke. Why should I now show you the courtesies denied me?"

"Because you love me?" Merry's attempt at humour fell flat, and Pippin removed himself from his chair, arms crossing over his slim chest as he stood before the blazing hearth. 

"Don't throw my foolishness in my face, Merry. I've had months to think about it on my own. You reminding me of it now is cruel." 

Merry's head lowered, and he sighed in frustration. He'd come so far and already he was making a mess of things. Scrubbing a hand over his face, Merry rose to his feet, determined not to give up.

"I want to apologize. I'm sorry for how I spoke to you, and for hurting you. It wasn't my intention."

Some of the tension seemed to leave Pippin's shoulders, but he didn't turn. Merry tentatively stepped closer, filling the silence with his soft voice.

"You had come to me, offering comfort, offering your love, and it was unforgivable of me to refuse them. I... I wasn't myself then, Pippin; I do hope you can understand that. And I don't tell you this as an excuse for my actions, but as an explanation of sorts. Had I to do it over again, it would be different. I simply wanted you to know."

Merry waited for Pippin to acknowledge his apology. To perhaps say that he understood; to at least turn around. But Pippin did none of these, and after a long moment Merry's heart sank. Very well, then. He couldn't force Pippin to accept his apology any more than Pippin could have forced Merry to see what had been right in front of him his whole life. Seeing it now was apparently too late.

With a heavy sigh, Merry turned to leave, not knowing what else to do. 

"I came down with a terrible cold, when I came home. Yet I hear no apology for that."

Halfway out the door, Merry turned in surprise. "What?" Merry stared incredulously to where Pippin was, looking at him. It was small, but the smile on Pippin's face sent Merry's heart to tripping in his chest. He crossed back to Pippin, hope embolding him. 

"I wasn't the one who slipped away in the middle of the night, in the pouring rain, proving that Took's don't use the good hobbit sense they're born with."

Pippin gave Merry a pointed look, and Merry felt his cheeks redden. 

"I never claimed that Brandybucks were any smarter." 

"Merry, I –"

"Oh, Pippin –"

Both hobbits began to speak at once, and Merry laughed. Pippin did as well, motioning for Merry to continue. 

"Pippin... I'm sorry. Truly. I never meant to hurt you."

"I know. And I wasn't. Well, not anymore, at least. And I know I picked a horrible time to tell you –"

Pippin never got to finish what he was saying. Reaching up with both hands, Merry cupped Pippin's face and gently drew it to his own, pressing their mouths together in a soft kiss. 

"Say it, Merry." Pippin whispered against Merry's mouth, and the feel of Pippin's arms winding around his middle caused Merry to shiver in a way that had nothing to do with his damp clothing. "I need to hear it."

"I love you, Pip. I know now I always have." Laughing softly, Merry kissed Pippin again, slowly and sweetly. "Now you say it. I need to hear it, too."

"Meriadoc Brandybuck, you're the biggest goose I've ever had the misfortune to know." 

Merry gasped at this, but Pippin only pressed himself closer, and Merry wrapped his arms around Pippin's shoulders, hugging him close. Pippin's smile softened then, his forehead resting against Merry's, and he looked deep into Merry's eyes, finally seeing there what he wanted.

"You are a goose, but I love you so much, I'm sure my heart will burst from it." 

Merry wanted to ask why Pippin hadn't ever told him of his feelings, but he already knew the answer. They had left the Shire still in their 'tweens, and when they returned, it was to a home they no longer recognized. They themselves had changed as well, from reckless troublemakers to hardened warriors, and for years after their return, life was full of responsibility and service and duty. Duty to return a life back to a former simple happiness that never should have been changed in the first place. 

It was a long time before Merry allowed Pippin to pull from his embrace. When he finally did, Pippin laughed, looking down at his now-wet clothing.

"Come with me," Pippin's hand clasped around Merry's, and he gave it a gentle tug. "Lets get you warm and dry. And we can... catch up." There was a twinkle in Pippin's eye – one Merry hadn't seen in many a moon – and he felt himself inexplicably flush. But his feet obeyed, and the two of them left the parlor together.

::

Pippin's chamber was dimly lit. Only the fire in the hearth and a few candles on the nightstand were lit, and Merry was grateful for it. He was terribly nervous, moreso than he could ever remember – especially in Pippin's presence – and he didn’t know what to do with himself. 

Pippin closed the door behind them, and crossed to the fire. He added a fresh log, and Merry was reminded of him doing the same the last night they had been together. It'd been months ago, but in Merry's mind, it was only yesterday. 

"You can come in," Pippin's smile was understanding, and he crossed to where Merry lingered, one hand outstretched. 

Merry took Pippin's hand, squeezing far tighter than he meant to. He smiled sheepishly when he saw Pippin wince. Merry's grip relaxed, and Pippin's expression did as well.

"I'm sorry," Merry murmured after a long moment. "I don't know what's gotten into me."

Pippin bit back his first response, and only drew Merry closer. He kissed Merry softly, and when Merry leaned into it, Pippin let the kiss deepen, pulling back a long moment later with a low hum.

"I love you, you know. And it doesn't matter what we do tonight. I only want you here with me."

Merry nodded, silently cursing himself for his sudden shyness. When was he ever shy around Pippin? Not even when he had been a wee lad with skinned knees and Pippin nothing more than a chubby faced babe in blankets. It was ridiculous, and Merry forced himself to shake it off. His own arm wrapped snugly around Pippin's middle.

"I love you, too," Merry's voice was soft. "And I want... I want us to love one another tonight. But, " and Merry blushed despite himself. "I'm not quite sure how we. I mean..."

Pippin took pity on Merry then, and he quieted him with another kiss. When Pippin looked up, his eyes sparkled in the low light.

"Don't worry. I'll show you."

Merry blinked at this, and let himself be led to the bed without noticing it happening.

"Wait a minute, how do you know that you can show me, Peregrin Took?"

Pippin's only answer to that was yet another kiss, and one that left Merry quite breathless.

"Do you truly want to know?" Pippin carefully opened each button of Merry's wet weskit.

"I... No. I suppose I don't. Not now, at any rate. Although – Pippin!" 

Pippin's deft fingers had opened Merry's shirt as well as his weskit, and he pushed aside the damp fabric. Those same fingers trailed across Merry's freshly bared skin, and it caused Merry to gasp. Grinning a smile that belied his age, Pippin did it again, more slowly this time, and Merry's eyes fluttered rapidly, threatening to fall shut.

"Oh... mercy," was all that Merry could say, and then he couldn't speak at all, Pippin's mouth eagerly covering his own.

Merry felt as if he should reciprocate in some way, but his hands seemed to be stuck at his sides. Pippin sensed this, and reached for them, never breaking their kiss. He firmly placed Merry's hands on the collar of his own shirt, and Merry could feel Pippin's lips curl in a smile when he began to fumble with cloth at Pippin's throat.

They undressed one another in silence. But each time Pippin would lean in to kiss Merry, Merry would pull back, wanting to watch his own hands instead as they slowly revealed Pippin's bare skin. Pippin contented himself with kissing Merry's warm cheeks, the line of his jaw, then his throat, which caused Merry to make a choked noise. Pippin replied with soft laughter; a sound of such happiness that Merry could not recall hearing since his youth, and it brought a flush of heat to the surface of his flesh, all over. 

When there was nothing between them but Merry's nervousness and the light from the fire, Pippin took the both of Merry's hands and gently lead him towards the bed.

"Lie down, love," Pippin whispered, and Merry did as he was told. He flushed to feel his own body tremble, but if Pippin noticed, he didn't say. He only offered Merry a sweet smile and lay beside him, gently drawing Merry into his warm embrace.

"All these years..." Merry mused softly, sadly. His eyes rose to Pippin's, and Pippin could see the furrow creasing his fair brow. "And here we always called you the fool. I was the one who was the fool. _Am_ the one- " 

Merry would have said more, but Pippin cut him off, his slim fingers pressing softly against the bow of Merry's top lip. His lips replaced his fingers a moment later, and he breathed a sigh of relief when Merry didn't pull back. Pressed closer, in fact, and Pippin opened up to him then, letting Merry take whatever it was he might want.

They kissed for a long time, and Merry was relieved to feel his nervousness slowly melt away. Things had always been easy between him and Pippin. From the first day Merry had held the swaddled babe in his arms, it had felt right. And now, with Pippin's mouth covering his own and their bodies pressed together from belly to thigh, Merry knew that this was right as well, and he stopped fighting against it. Too many things had been hard as of late. Too many battles to fight in his lifetime. Certainly more than any hobbit should ever face. But Merry was finding peace in the warmth of Pippin's arms, and he sank into it gratefully.

Shifting his weight, Pippin lay back against the sheets, and he tugged Merry to lay atop of him with a low hum. Merry’s gaze raked over the sight before him, eyes catching on the scars scattered across Pippin's pale skin, some clearly visible even in the low light. All of them were known to Merry, visible or not, and he pressed reverent kisses to the ones he could reach. Pippin had fought his own battles, and Merry wondered if Pippin was now at peace as well with Merry here. 

Reverent kisses soon turned into passionate ones, instinct taking over where experience was lacking, and Pippin arched closer to Merry's sweet mouth, his body rising as their skin slid together. Pippin offered himself to Merry's explorations without reservation. Merry had wanted this for so long now; the realization hit him with such force that he gasped; and he swallowed, fighting with himself not to pull Pippin to him roughly and take him with his aching need. 

Gasping at the sensation of flesh against flesh, arousals rubbing when they aligned just right, Merry pulled his head back, gazing down at Pippin for an endless moment. He could see the desire plain on Pippin's face, the unveiled want burning in Pippin's eyes, all for him. It was unlike anything Merry had ever witnessed before, and something snapped delicately inside of him. Pippin must have felt it too, for their mouths came together at once, eagerly kissing and tasting one another without constraint.

Tongues seeking, hands caressing, the two hobbits pressed their bodies together tight with desire. Merry forgot everything in that moment – his age, his grief, the years that had passed without this. He forgot everything but the feel of Pippin under him, loving him with his whole being. Pippin gasped into Merry’s mouth as Merry’s hips pushed and rolled, and Merry groaned, never realizing that anything could feel this perfect.

Merry nestled his hips between Pippin’s parted thighs, caressing his rounded rump with strong fingers. It was instinct that lead him to do these things, and Pippin arched as he slipped his leg slowly up Merry’s thigh, his head thrown back in pleasure. Flesh to flesh, taut and yearning, they rocked together, the friction and the heat sweet consuming bliss. 

"Merry, Merry..." Pippin gasped, his voice sticky with lust like thick honey. Merry shuddered to hear it. Pippin's body flushed hotly all over as he claimed Merry’s mouth again, enough for Merry to feel it, and his breath was stolen away with a searing kiss. 

Merry gave over to the rhythm of his need, and soon he was gasping with each thrust, his body tight and trembling. Pippin shook beneath him, moaning and clinging strongly, and then his whole body tensed, and he cried out as he came in a hot rush. 

The sensations and the realization were too much for Merry. His own release burst forth a moment later, moaning against Pippin’s shoulder and pushing forward with all his might, leaving slick wetness over both their bellies.

Merry gathered Pippin into his arms tightly, feeling fiercely protective and needing his body close. Pippin curled around Merry, tangling their legs together and breathing heavily on Merry’s neck. Merry kissed Pippin’s soft hair and nuzzled his face into it, wanting this moment to last. Pippin allowed it all, and held Merry just as close.

It was the feeling of Pippin's silent laughter several minutes later that raised Merry's head, and his eyes widened in surprise when the other hobbit neatly flipped them.

Tumbled to his back, Merry looked up, and he could only stare at Pippin, who seemed suddenly ageless in the low light. Time had been erased from his familiar face, his war-battered body, and Merry felt as if he held the sweet lad he could still so clearly remember from all those years ago. Pippin laughed then, high and bright like the ringing of bells, and the sound brought happy tears to Merry's eyes. 

"I will love you for the rest of our days, Merry." Amusement still tugged at the corners of Pippin's sweet mouth, but his words were soft and sincere. Merry's heart swelled, and he captured the both of Pippin's hands, kissing them each in turn.

"And I, you, Pippin. You have my word on that." 

~fin~


End file.
